Shooting Stars and Satellites
by glass-jars
Summary: Gabriel finds Sam in the afterlife. (mild season 9 mid-season finale spoilers, kind of. Not exactly.)


"If you are very very quiet you can hear the clouds rub against the sky." -Raul Gutierrez, "Lies I've Told My 3 Year Old Recently"

...

Sam dozed in the passenger seat, barely aware of the soft stroke of the breeze through the open window. He could just hear the sound of the radio, static-y and slightly out of focus, as he leaned against the half-rolled down window. Dean sang under his breath, tapping the steering wheel. All felt calm and gentle, and Sam smiled a little. He was tired, and had begun to doubt himself once more in the past few days, but on nights like this, in the car with his big brother, he almost felt like he was twenty-three again and hunting random monsters.

Of course, that was pretty far from reality.

He'd almost dropped off completely into unconsciousness—the kind that engulfs you like smoke—when Dean let out a shouted curse and the car swerved to the side of the road and slammed to a stop just beside the ditch lining the highway. Sam fumbled awake to the sound of the car's door slamming and Dean letting out a stream of profanities.

"Dean?"

Dean stuck his head in the window. "You okay, Sammy?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." Sam straightened up, rubbing his eyes. "What the hell just happened?" He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door, stepping out into the grass beside the road. He was careful not to trip in the ditch but he still stumbled.

Letting out a long breath, Dean jerked a thumb over his shoulder, to a form hunched on the asphalt.

"Shit—" Sam moved closer. "Did we hit him?"

Dean laughed. He said, "Trust me, Sammy, if we'd hit him you woulda felt it."

Sam picked his way over to the man, and crouched down beside him. He grabbed his shoulder and felt him shift under his touch, rolling onto his back.

Sam's breath caught in his throat.

"What...?"

Gabriel grinned weakly up at him, blood on his face and rips in his clothes.

"You're supposed to be _dead_."

Gabriel snorted. "I missed you too, big boy." He reached one hand up to grapple at Sam's arm and tugged himself to sit more upright, swaying as he did so. Paused, squeezing his eyes shut. "Wow." He blinked hard and sniffed. "Dizzy."

He gave Sam a nudge. Raised his eyebrow. Sam stared at him, and with a soft, "Oh!" stood up, holding his hand out for Gabriel to grab. Gabriel used Sam's arm to haul himself to his feet. He stumbled a little as he stood, but managed to balance himself, with one arm stuck out into the air. He patted Sam's shoulder appreciatively as he turned to face Dean.

"So, Ken Doll, since you almost ran me down and I feel like my stomach is trying to eat itself..." His lips twisted, and he smirked. "Mind givin' me a lift or a place to stay?"

Beside the Impala, Dean narrowed his eyes. He crossed his arms. "What's in it for us?"

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Gabriel shoved himself away from Sam and nearly tripped in the process. He righted himself at the last moment, though. Approached Dean with determination in his eyes and raised his hand as if to grab Dean—as if to tug him down to his level and say, "You listen hear, bub."

But instead, he snapped his fingers.

Sam frowned, brow creasing in confusion as the road and the car and his brother melted away. His jaw tightened, and he looked around him. Gabriel turned to face him. They stood in a great sea of nothingness. The air around them lacked color, the sky above did not exist, and there were no boundaries or sense of space. It was infinity, in the most unassuming way.

"Sam."

Gabriel stood much closer than he had the moment before.

He looked up at Sam, with something in his face that sent Sam's gut twisting.

"Sam," His voice dropped to a whisper, light and barely there. "Sam, this isn't real."

With another glance around himself, Sam shot Gabriel a crinkled, questioning look. "What are you talking about?"

Gabriel took Sam's hands, lacing their fingers together. It was a little like he wanted to weave their essence together and in a way he succeeded, melting the edges of their beings so that where their fingers pressed seemed to be wrapped in smoke. He licked his lips and looked up at Sam. Looked through Sam.

"You're dead, Sam."

Every piece of Sam seemed to simultaneously judder to a halt—an emergency brake that slammed into commission, stopping the breath and the blood and the heart beat in his body.

"What?"

He received a smile in response. The tired, sad kind, extending past Gabriel's eyes and to his mouth.

"You just... left your body. Okay?" He planted his hands on his hips, glancing down at the nothing directly below his feet. "It's hard to explain. An angel took over your body, and ejected you, and now you're here." He shrugged. "Okay?"

Sam frowned. "Not okay. What the hell—" He crossed his arms, jaw tightening. Looked away, and back to Gabriel. "You're telling me that... for the hundredth time I got fucked over and controlled and manipulated... and I didn't even _know_ about it this time?"

"'Fraid so."

Sam laughed under his breath, bitterly. "Great." He licked his lips. "And now I'm dead."

"Hey," Gabriel stepped closer again. "Chin up, kid." He settled one hand on Sam's arm, ducking his head to look up at Sam and meet his eyes. "At least here, no one can hurt you."

"Where is 'here'?"

Gabriel patted his shoulder and backed away. "It's Heaven." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Now get your butt moving, and you find your friends. I don't want you stuck in a loop, and I know you don't want that either. Your family is waiting for you in the Roadhouse."

"Will you be there?"

Gabriel smirked. "'Course not, Sam." He spread his arms out and spun a little, stepping through the blank nothingness. "I'm just a bunch of particles floating through space and time. You hate me, anyway."

"I don't hate you." Sam shivered a little where he stood—floated, rather. Reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "I hate some of the things you did, but I don't hate you. Someone like me has no right to hate someone like you, no matter how many awful things you did. And you made up for some of it by dying." His mouth twisted.

Gabriel frowned a little bit and rocked on his heels. "Sam, it's not about who you are, under it all." He raised an eyebrow. "It's about what you do." He shook his head. "So by all rights, you should despise me, and I should lay at your feet."

"Did you just paraphrase Batman at me?"

Gabriel winked. "Maybe."

Sam laughed.

"It's true, though. Sam, the most important thing isn't what you think is wrong with you, but the good that you've done throughout your life."

Sam watched him, with wide eyes. He looked down at his feet. Rubbed at his eyes and chewed on his lip and shifted his weight.

He glanced back up, and Gabriel was gone.

A long, black road stretched out ahead of him and stars dusted the sky above. A comet streaked across the sky, leaving a little glowing trail in its wake. Frogs creaked in the darkness. Some bushes rustled, and in the far distance, the glimmer of a city could be seen—cellphone towers blinking and the shivering glow of skyscrapers.

Sam began to walk.


End file.
